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Outside – Brandon Sanderson

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Outside Snow is falling. So I look up. The world mystifies when you stare up through falling snow. Even standing still, you can soar. Even alone, you are surrounded. Even mundane, you find magic. I’ve spent my life chasing the fantastical, yet everything I’ve ever imagined can be casually matched by someone tilting the

Share Facebook X (Twitter) Pinterest Tags Blog Mistborn Writing Outside Snow is falling. So I look up. The world mystifies when you stare up through falling snow. Even standing still, you can soar. Even alone, you are surrounded. Even mundane, you find magic. I’ve spent my life chasing the fantastical, yet everything I’ve ever imagined can be casually matched by someone tilting their head up so they can experience it. The soft. Settling. Aspiration. Of snow on an otherwise ordinary day. When I was eighteen, I moved from Nebraska to Utah. Here, snow is fleeting, embarrassed to be an obstruction

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